Of Truth and Apologies
by Shpadoinkle Day
Summary: The day after the South Park Gun Show, Stan decides to reconcile with Kyle. One-shot. *Contains spoilers for those who haven't watched Season 19 yet.


Stan Marsh paced back and forth in front of the Broflovski house, nervously kicking away at the snow at his feet. He'd been doing so for the past twenty minutes. His mind was running a mile a minute, wondering how best to make amends with his Super Best Friend.

Jimmy's revelation about the ads may have sparked a huge misunderstanding between Stan and Kyle, but it wasn't enough. Stan wanted to make their friendship right again, he really did. He approached the Broflovski's front door and rang the bell, determined to do what he should have done from the beginning: sit down with his best friend and actually listen to his side of the story.

Kyle's mother, Sheila answered the door. "Oh, hello Stan," she said, her tone less than pleasant upon seeing him.

"Is Kyle home?" Stan asked her.

"He's upstairs in his room. There better not be any weapons on you, young man!" she scolded him, checking his pockets.

"No, ma'am," answered Stan, throwing his hands up defensively. "I just want to talk to him and tell him I'm sorry."

Sheila's face softened slightly at this but managed to keep her stern demeanor. She sighed and stepped out of the way to let Stan inside.

Up in his bedroom, Kyle Broflovski was happily chatting away on the phone while playing Candy Crush Saga on his computer.

"Did you catch that special on Investigation Discovery last night?" Kyle asked the person on the other end of the phone. "I thought I was gonna have nightmares, dude."

The redhead was suddenly startled when he heard his bedroom door open. From the corner of his eye, Kyle caught a glimpse of Stan walking into his room and sitting on his bed. Stan nervously pinched at the material of Kyle's bedspread, the look on his face a mix of fear and patience as he waited for Kyle to wrap up his conversation.

Kyle stared quizzically at Stan, nearly forgetting he was still on the phone until a voice on the other end asked if he was still there.

"Davíd, I'll call you right back," he said into the phone before hanging up and turning in his computer chair to face Stan. Both boys stared silently at each other for a good 30 seconds before Kyle broke the silence.

"What do you want, Stan?" he asked firmly.

Stan took a deep breath. "I came here to talk to you, Kyle," he answered. "You know…about yesterday."

Kyle didn't even need to press on. He knew damn well what Stan meant. The memory of yesterday's Gun Show played in his mind:

 _He was running through the main hallway to the arena, one hand in Leslie's and the other holding a gun. He heard Randy Marsh's voice resounding through the halls._

" _Listen to me, everyone! There are beings who are purposely gentrifying the earth so that humans can no longer afford it. We've been looking for Kyle Broflovski. Somebody's hiding him!"_

Oh Jesus, haven't I been through enough? _Kyle thought._ Theguns were supposed to be used to protect us, and now Mr. Marsh is going to turn it into murder by blaming me for the gentrification. I have to tell everyone the truth before it's too late!

 _With fear in his heart over the matter that all guns would be pointed at him because of Randy's lies, Kyle took a deep breath, gave Leslie a reassuring nod, and burst through the doors to the arena._

 _The scene before him felt like a punch to the stomach. Stan defending his father was one thing. But seeing Stan standing there with a gun pointed at him, joining Randy in this supposed witch hunt against him? Despite his brave demeanor upon entering the arena, Kyle's heart was broken._ I know we had a major fight the other day, we've had plenty of them over the years and we got through it all. But I never thought he'd be upset enough to wish me dead, _Kyle thought dejectedly._

 _Luckily Jimmy, Officer Barbrady, and a prostitute named Classi had interrupted with the news that ads had become sentient and could not be trusted, and that Leslie was one of them. After this big misunderstanding, both he and Stan exchanged a small smile at each other. But to Kyle, this still wasn't enough of a reconciliation to cover all of the shit that happened between them over the past few weeks. Those smiles had meant nothing to either one of them._

"Look, dude," said Kyle. "I understand why you thought I was the enemy when you found out I was working with Leslie. But why would you want to kill me for it? Couldn't you have just talked to me about it?"

"That's what I came here for," answered Stan. "And besides, we weren't actually going to kill you. We just wanted to get some answers out of you."

Kyle's mouth hung open. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could Stan really be this blind? He jumped off his computer chair in agitation.

"Get some answers out of me?!" he asked angrily, storming towards the bed. "By threatening me at gunpoint?! I don't get you, Stan! Did you not see how your dad went to extremes to impress the PCs? He was bending over backwards to get a Whole Foods in this town, for Christ's sakes! He started that Shameless America campaign and had an innocent man hanged because your dad and his celebrity friends couldn't handle the truth! And don't even get me started on how much your dad and the PCs targeted me. I mean, come on! PC Principal had him and two other pledges break into my house while I was sleeping and leave dozens of pigs in my room with 'biggit' painted on them! They were out to get me, Stan. And your dad was just as big a bully as the rest of them. He tied me to a tree, destroyed my hair, and drew penises on my face! Don't you remember?! Your dad was so brainwashed by his obsession with PC culture that he might've been crazy enough to actually fire that gun at me!"

BAM! That's when it hit Stan like a ton of bricks. He never thought about that possibility. It all made sense now. No wonder Kyle had placed the blame on his father. Randy Marsh was a man consumed by obsession, and these obsessions drove him to do stupid and dangerous things. Stan knew his father had had stupid obsessions over the years: trying to beat Bono at taking the world's biggest crap, attempting to give himself cancer so he could purchase medicinal marijuana, wanting to become a celebrity chef, using his alter ego Lorde to use the ladies' room at work. But this time Randy's obsession – his newfound political correctness agenda – was taken to a terrifying level, nearly forcing South Park's residents out of town and nearly killing Kyle and Butters in the process. Guilt plagued Stan at that very moment.

 _How did I not see this one coming?_ Stan thought. _And how the hell did I forget my dad was harming my best friend at the beginning of all this crap? I even yelled at him for it._ He had even helped Kyle shave off his mutilated hair the following night which, to Stan's amazement, magically grew back to a full fro in the span of ten days. _Boy, do I feel like an asshole right now…_

"Oh my god…you're right, Kyle," Stan said slowly, recalling every incident his friend had brought up. "How could I have been so stupid? I can see why you were suspicious of my dad and the PCs in all this. You had every reason to. I…I'm so sorry." Stan choked back a sob.

Kyle opened his mouth to speak when Stan raised a hand to stop him.

"Wait, wait, there's more," Stan sniffed, a tear slowly rolling down his cheek.

"Huh?"

"I wanted to apologize about the way I've been acting towards you lately," said Stan, his voice cracking. "About how I silenced you whenever you tried to make a speech."

"But why?" Kyle really wanted to know. It had been bugging the redhead for the past three months. What had he done wrong that caused his own his best friend to turn on him like that?

"This whole time you acted like a total dick to me about it for no reason," continued Kyle. "I was hurt, Stan. You shut me down just like the others! I thought you of all people would have at least stood by me when the townspeople shot death glares at me for trying to make a speech and set things right!"

"I know, Kyle, I know," answered Stan. "You deserve an explanation." The boy took a deep, shaky breath before answering. "When you gave that speech about Caitlyn Jenner being a hero, I thought Cartman was right. Not about you bringing illegal immigrants here on purpose!" he added quickly, seeing Kyle's eyebrows curve down angrily. "But about the fact that your speech went viral and inspired people to do whatever they wanted."

"Dude, I told you I didn't even want to give that speech," Kyle clarified. "I only said it because I wanted the PC bros to stop torturing me."

"That makes sense, though," Stan agreed. "I was scared that your Caitlyn Jenner speech was giving PC Principal more freedom to change this town, and that's why I acted out on you like that. But it wasn't your fault, Kyle. I let my fears get in the way of our friendship. I feel like such a terrible best friend!"

He wiped his tears away with his sleeve, but it was no use. He couldn't get himself to stop crying.

Kyle took a tissue from the box on his desk and handed it to his friend. Stan took it gratefully. "Thanks, dude," he sniffled, and blew his nose loudly into the tissue.

Kyle climbed onto his bed next to Stan and placed a hand on the crying boy's back. "I know it took a lot for you to come to me and apologize," Kyle said to him, an understanding smile forming on his lips. "That really means a lot to me."

There was a long pause. "I can't believe it," Stan said to himself aloud. "Ads." He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "I thought I'd never see the day where _fucking ads_ would be a threat to humanity."

"Yeah," Kyle chuckled as well. He leapt off his bed and walked over to the window. He stared out contemplatively, the gentle rays of the afternoon sun pouring onto his face. "I can't believe I fell into that trap. Here I was thinking PC Principal was going to do something to hurt Leslie, seeing as how he yelled at her all the time and how he and the PCs threatened anyone that stood in their way. I wanted to protect her." He sighed. "God, I can't believe how stupid I was to give her the last four digits of my soc."

Stan was aghast. "…You _what_?" He jumped off the bed and rushed over to his best friend. "Kyle, why the hell would you –"

"I was in a bad place and didn't know who I could turn to," Kyle added quickly but defensively. "And what Leslie said about the PCs sounded so accurate to me at the time, I just…" He placed his right hand on the window and put his head against the glass. He closed his eyes, feeling too embarrassed to look at Stan. "Oh God, I'm so ashamed," the boy grumbled.

Stan felt sympathy towards Kyle. The poor redhead had been through so much in the past few weeks. He placed a hand on Kyle's shoulder.

"Kyle, you did it out of the goodness of your heart," Stan assured him. "There was no way you could've known Leslie was an ad. And besides, none of that's gonna matter now that she's been destroyed. But dude, you should _never_ give out your soc under _any_ circumstances, no matter how bad the situation is."

"Yeah, you're right," Kyle sighed. "I had a moment of weakness, I guess. But don't you see? That's what ads do best: manipulate. We were all like pieces in a chess game to them. And on top of that, they tell you what you wanna hear. That's why people fall for their tricks so easily. And at the rapid rate technology is going, who knows how far advanced these ads will be? But you know what the biggest manipulator in all this was? Fear. Everything spiraled out of control because we let fear get to our heads. We may never be totally rid of these ads, but if we put suspicion aside, we can prepare ourselves better to pinpoint these ads the second time around and know how to fight back."

It was then that Kyle realized what he had just done. He gasped, his shaking fingertips touching his throat in surprise.

Stan gaped at him. "Kyle, did you just…?"

"Yes," Kyle answered, still in shock. "Oh…oh my god, yes! I…I made a speech. I made a speech…and it feels SO GOOD!" He laughed and began to dance, nearly slipping on the end of his bedspread. He balanced himself upright against the bedpost, laughing at himself and from the pure joy the speech brought him.

Stan smiled at him. "It's good to hear you give a speech again, dude," he said.

"Yeah," Kyle smiled back. "Too bad it's going to take a while for the town to want me to say them again."

"Well, it's a start," Stan said.

"Thanks, dude," said Kyle. He paused, an afterthought occurring to him. "And I'm sorry for calling you a 'Cartman'."

Stan chuckled. "I did act like a 'Cartman', didn't I?" he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Not my proudest moment."

The two stared out the window in comfortable silence, watching the newly-melted snow fall from the tree branches. It was now Stan's turn to break the silence.

"Hey dude…if you're not busy, do you want to go to the mall with me? I've been meaning to go back to Foot Vault and buy those sneakers."

Kyle cocked his head in mock thought. "Only if we get to eat chicken nuggets while doing so," he said, smiling.

Stan smiled back in relief. "It's a deal. Let's go!"

As Stan and Kyle were about to leave the room, a car passed by outside. Their heads turned at the sound of the car's radio blasting the Kansas lyrics they knew all too well:

" _Lay your weary head to rest,_

 _Don't you cry no more."_

Both boys saw this as a sign. Despite their great misunderstandings, their friendship was given another chance.

THE END


End file.
